


Gun Shots and Coffee Shops

by lillypad2104



Series: Coffee and Criminals [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: FAHC Au, Fluff, GTA AU, M/M, Myan - Freeform, Pining, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-11 05:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13517991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillypad2104/pseuds/lillypad2104
Summary: For once, Michael's tedious job is a good thing.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Michael first met Ryan on a Thursday. 10:37 am on a chilly October Thursday to be precise, Michael had made a reminder. Their encounter wasn’t something, or _someone_ , he wanted to forget when he returned home.

His day started like any other: with an overwhelming sense of dread at having to leave his warm apartment to face the cold and his job. It wasn’t as if Michael hated his job, that would be too strong, but he didn’t exactly enjoy serving strangers their cups of coffee every day. It was the only available job he could find when he first moved to Los Santos, and he never bothered looking for a different one. It grew to be comfortably familiar.

He _did_ choose the worst possible city to move to, though. Michael had heard nothing but bad stories about Los Santos since his first day there. The streets were rife with crime, you couldn’t go one block without being mugged by some lowlife, and the number of criminal gangs running around the place was enough to terrify anyone. Michael had ruled most of the stories out as nothing more than urban legends, but there were _some_ he couldn’t help but believe. Luckily, the coffee shop had never been a target of crime, so that was good enough for him. Michael had enough worries, he didn’t need to add to them with thoughts of getting robbed or shot at work.

Michael’s mundane Thursday began at 6 am. His shift didn’t start until 9, but he had nothing better to do than to help set up. If he was lucky he could swindle a few extra bucks out of his boss for coming in early, he definitely needed them.

He made his way out of the apartment, grabbing his backpack and sighing heavily as he did so. The blast of cold air hitting him in the face was an unwelcome attack, especially that early when Michael had no energy to be dealing with that kind of bullshit.

The walk to the store was short and uneventful, as per usual. Sirens wailed in the distance, followed by gunshots, nothing out of the ordinary. A deep fog hung over the city, adding to its dreariness. For a city that never stopped, Los Santos always seemed to be moving so slowly to Michael. Maybe he was living in the wrong part of it.

Michael pushed the shop’s door open, the heavy creaking sounds made him cringe just like they did every morning, and along with the creaking came the usual _someone should fix that_ thought, though no one ever did fix it. Michael certainly wouldn’t fix it, though a daily annoyance it wasn’t _his_ problem.

The heady scent of coffee hit him immediately, and Michael couldn’t stomach it anymore. He had worked in the store for enough years to make the smell of coffee entirely repulsive. He walked past the familiar counter, stacked high with mugs and machines, and made his way into the back. His shift hadn’t officially even stated and Michael was already counting down the down the hours until he could return home.

The morning rush crept up quickly, and Michael hated it. Some asshole was always holding up the queue by not having decided their order while they were waiting, or douchebag business people would talk on the phone while ordering. Michael made sure to give them less foam on the top of their drinks, _serves them right for being dicks._

Today was no different, until at precisely 10:34 am an unfamiliar person sauntered in. There was something so oddly attractive about the way he moved, strong and confident, yet calm. He was rugged and almost dangerously composed and cool in a someone-you-wouldn’t-let-your-parents-know-you-hang-out-with kind of way. His blue and black leather jacket clung to his figure, stretching out over broad shoulders. As he shifted forward in the queue, Michael could feel his heart pick up pace. The man inched closer and closer.

At 10:37 am he spoke his first words to Michael.

“Just a coffee, black.”

Michael barely heard the order over the sound of machinery and chatter, but somehow he knew those words would find their way to his ears.

Michael found the man staring at him and he couldn't work out why. Then it hit him.

“...uh, can I get a name?” _Smooth._

“Ryan.”

_Ryan._

Michael made _Ryan’s_ drink more carefully than he had ever made a cup of coffee in his life. In reality, he was only adding hot water to ground up beans, but it had to be done perfectly. Michael was mentally preparing himself to call out _Ryan’s_ name.

“Black coffee for Ry-an.” Of course. Of fucking course his voice had to crack. Michael couldn’t hide his reddening cheeks, but he swore Ryan cracked a smile.

As Ryan handed over a dollar to pay for his drink, his fingers brushed against Michael’s. Michael froze. When Michael managed to regain his composure, Ryan had already started to walk away. Michael didn’t mind the view.

He watched Ryan choose a seat. By the window, closest to the door. Not where Michael would’ve sat, he always preferred the booths, but something about Ryan’s choice intrigued him. Near to the door so he could quickly leave, but he also has a good view of the street.

Michael took his break early and found himself with nothing to do, except for check out the hot guy by the door. He watched Ryan pull out a novel, and bring it close to his eyes. Michael couldn’t tell if Ryan had bad eyesight or if he noticed his staring. Michael decided to go with the latter.

The coffee remained untouched. When two minutes had passed, Michael thought Ryan was waiting for the coffee to cool down. Then five minutes had passed. And then ten. Ryan still hadn’t touched the drink.

Michael mentally kicked himself. The blend was probably too strong, or too weak, or…

Michael’s thoughts were interrupted as he saw Ryan get up to leave, and Michael thought that would be the last he would ever see of this “Ryan.”

Michael was about to hide in the stockroom, partially in embarrassment, when Ryan flashed a smile at him before heading out.

Ryan smiled. At him.

Michael only hoped that Ryan would come back the next day. And the next. 


	2. Chapter 2

Michael had been seeing Ryan day after day in the shop. He wasn’t sure why though. Ryan never seemed to drink the coffee he bought, choosing to pull out his own can of Diet Coke instead. Michael knew that was against the shop’s policy, but he had let it slide for Ryan.

At 10:30 Michael had Ryan’s order ready to be made regardless. Though if it was a Wednesday, Ryan would come in half an hour earlier. He'd be an hour late on a Friday and didn't frequent the shop on Sundays. Not that Michael had it memorised or anything like that…

Ryan always ordered the same drink and sat at the same table, and Michael may have spent one of his breaks working out the best place to gush over Ryan. At the end of the counter by the newspaper rack was his top spot, but the booth on the opposite side of the shop was a close second.

Michael was taken with Ryan, even if he only knew one thing about him as a person: he took his coffee black. But Ryan was so attractively mysterious that Michael couldn’t help but want to find out more, something about Ryan gave off an air of seediness, but in a good way. Michael never expected mysterious and silent to be his type.

On a dreary Monday morning, the only thing that kept Michael going was the thought of seeing Ryan again. Ryan made Michael’s tedious job worth it. They didn’t speak much, except for “black coffee,” but Michael would keep trying. He was ninety five percent sure that Ryan was intrigued too, the other five percent kept telling Michael that Ryan saw him as nothing more than the guy that served him coffee. Michael ignored that five percent.

Michael rolled out of bed, less grumpy than usual. He rushed getting dressed and debated on having breakfast, but decided he could get to work faster if he skipped. Nothing would slow him from getting to the best part of his day.

The morning seemed to go by painfully slowly, almost as if the world was purposely teasing Michael. Even when Michael busied himself with a task that _at least_ took 45 minutes, when he looked at the clock, only 5 had passed. Time was only trickling away, when Michael really wanted it to be running away.

Soon enough, 10:25 am had crept up on Michael. For the first time, Michael went into the bathroom to freshen up ready for Ryan’s appearance. His eyes met themselves in the mirror while he was doing his hair. That glance was enough to make Michael have second thoughts about what he was doing. Ryan barely had a fucking clue who he was. Michael was trying to impress someone who knew he existed for about 10 minutes each day. Ryan probably forgot about him when he left the shop...

He had planned to spend the next half an hour camped out in the bathroom out of pure embarrassment, then his eyes caught his watch. 10:32 am _. Fuck it._ Michael took a deep breath, and walked out of the bathroom with enough confidence and determination to make it look like he owned the place.

At precisely 10:34, as always, the bell above the door chimed and Ryan walked in. Michael’s head snapped up towards the noise, he could already feel a warm smile spreading across his face. Ryan seemed to carry himself differently, he walked with caution and kept one arm pressed against his waist. Probably just stiff joints, he did look like the sort to work out.

Michael decided that is was his turn to "make the first move."

“Black coffee?” His smile was painfully wide, his voice too enthusiastic. Michael knew Ryan would most likely reply with a “yes,” but his heart still fluttered anyway.

Ryan nodded. Only then did Michael fully notice his face. Mostly a ghastly shade of pale, with a few smudges of red and black. Maybe he was a painter? Michael was just wishfully thinking, something was obviously wrong.

The coffee was made in half the time it was normally made in, Michael made sure of it. He had been handling Ryan’s order personally since the first time he came in the shop. Michael didn’t trust anyone else to make it right, not that Ryan would ever know what it tasted like but the thought was there.

“Do you want me to take this over to your table?” It was the only thing Michael could do to help, the poor guy was in pain.

Once again, Ryan responded with a nod. Watching as he slid into the chair, Michael made a mental note to keep an eye on Ryan, well, a closer eye than he usually kept on him.

He had to stifle a laugh as Ryan brought out a comically large newspaper and shielded his upper half behind it. Michael then moved into what he dubbed “observation point number two.” He could see Ryan glance around frantically, nervously. Then Michael began to worry.

His thoughts were drowned out by obnoxiously loud sirens blaring down the street. Michael _swore_ he saw Ryan slide deeper into “cover.”

Catching the glare from his boss, Michael reluctantly walked back over to the counter. No way was he able to prepare stupidly overpriced drinks with Ryan on his mind. Once the sirens had died out completely, Ryan sprang up, catching Michael’s attention.

Michael watched intently as Ryan walked, no, _staggered_ , over to the bins. Ryan never threw his cups out, normally opting to leave them on the table for Michael to swoop in and clean up once he was gone.

Ryan’s face was a deathly shade of white, his walking became more forced, like he was pushing himself to move forward.

Michael threw off his apron, ready to approach Ryan with an offer to help. He was too late.

It took him a moment to register what went on, but the next thing Michael knew, Ryan was on the floor with blood beginning to pool, and he was calling for an ambulance.

 

* * *

 

Michael wasn’t entirely sure how he found himself sat in Central LS Medical Centre’s waiting room on a Monday afternoon. The paramedics found a gunshot wound on Ryan’s waist. It was a fresh wound, too.

Ryan had been rushed to the emergency room and Michael was told to stay in the waiting room. He had been sat there long enough for the cops to show up. They sat around waiting for Ryan to come around so they question him, and Michael had an uneasy feeling that they would be questioning him as well.

Eventually, Michael was called down to Ryan’s room where the cops had finished grilling him for details of how he got shot. Then came Michael’s turn.

The officer stared Michael down, her eyes narrowing as she flipped through her notebook.

“Do you know how your friend got shot?” The question was abrupt, Michael didn’t really know why he of all people was being questioned in the first place.

Michael opened his mouth to reveal that Ryan was only a customer in the coffee shop he worked at, but he quickly shut it. He liked the way friend sounded. _Ryan’s_ friend.

After an intense ten minutes of questioning, Michael was allowed to go in to see Ryan. He leapt at the chance to have a conversation with Ryan that didn’t involve black coffee.

“Hey,” Michael said, softly, in a tone of voice he hadn’t heard himself use for a while. He had no one worth using it for.

“Hey.” Ryan’s voice was deep and borderline sensual.

Michael sat in the chair next to the bed, unsure of how close he should be, if he leaned in too far it would make him look desperate. Ryan turned to face him and Michael felt like a giddy highschooler. Now it was time to ask the inevitable.

“So… how did you get shot?”

Ryan chuckled softly, “I was cleaning my gun when my dog leapt on me, must’ve shot myself.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. Not that the story didn’t sound plausible, Michael knew jack shit about guns, but the dog part caught his attention.

“You have a dog?” Michael never would’ve guessed Ryan was a dog person.

“Yeah, a few.” He found it _so_ attractive.

They sat in silence, not sure what to say to each other. Michael was ready to make a coffee joke, but he wasn’t sure if it was the appropriate time. He twiddled his thumbs, would it look insensitive if he walked out? Or would it look creepy if he stayed too long?

“I should thank you.” Michael looked up at Ryan. “You did save my life after all.”

“I guess I did.” Michael awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, but he could do nothing to stop his cheeks from flaring up in a lovely shade of red.

Their eyes lingered on a shared glance, and Michael wasn’t sure who moved in first.

The noise of the door opening pulled him back. _Damnit._  More cops, that meant more questioning.

Michael got up out of the chair, turning back to Ryan. “I… I guess I’ll get going, then.” He tried hard to hide his disappointment.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in the store next week. You need _someone_ to keep the black coffee business alive.”

“Heh, I suppose I do.” As Michael left a wide smile stretched across his face, a smile so powerful he couldn’t fight it off.

He had never been so in love in his life.


	3. Chapter 3

Three weeks had passed and Michael was still thinking about what happened at the hospital. Did he and Ryan _really_ almost kiss or was he just imagining things?

He hadn’t seen Ryan in those weeks, but Michael assumed it was taking him some time to fully recover. Michael would wait as long as he needed to for Ryan. He was someone worth waiting for.

Work had gone back to its usual boring self since Ryan wasn’t around, but he would come back. Ryan _said_ he would come back. Good things just took time. And Ryan was most definitely a good thing.

Business was particularly slow on this Monday morning, it gave Michael time to have Ryan’s order ready as always, but he could use the extra time to do something else. Perhaps to be as bold as to give Ryan his number? Assuming Ryan came, that was.

And Ryan delivered. For the first time in three weeks, the first time since their almost kiss, Michael saw Ryan. It had been so long that his heart pounded the same way it did when they first met.

Michael prepped the coffee as normal, and brought it over to Ryan’s table. If he kept up the special treatment he was sure the other customers would start to complain. Not that Michael cared.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, sitting in the chair opposite Ryan. It wasn’t time for his break _just_ yet, but he hoped his boss would let it slide.

“Better than when you last saw.” That voice, fuck, Michael had missed that voice more than he realised. He missed  _Ryan_ more than he realised.

“Good! That’s… uh… that’s good.” God, Ryan probably thought he was a babbling idiot. Hopefully a cute babbling idiot.

Just like at the hospital, they sat silently, basking in each other’s company. In the back of his mind, Michael had the slightest hope the silence would result in him finally getting that kiss. He was more than owed it by now. Michael went to start the conversation up again, since he couldn't feel a kiss actually coming on, much to his disappointment.

“I’ve got something for -”

“ _Jones!”_ Oh shit.

After apologising to Ryan, Michael swiftly made his way back behind the counter. Ryan laughed softly and Michael smiled back. Michael was glad he couldn’t see his own face because he was sure he looked like an idiot. How Ryan managed to not look like an idiot when he smiled Michael would never know. He took a moment to recover, a moment to wipe the cheesy grin off his face. 

_Your number. Give him your number._

Michael had forgotten about his plan amidst his boss being a douchebag, taking his break half an hour early didn’t _really_ matter. He fumbled about, trying to find a piece of paper or a napkin and a pen that actually worked. He was going that extra step to initiate something formally. All this suggestive flirting was good, but not good enough.

By the time Michael had actually been able to scrawl his number down, Ryan had left. Without saying a word, without waiting for Michael to come back. Michael scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it in the trash. For good measure, he kicked the back door.

He didn’t realise that would be the last he saw of Ryan. For now.

* * *

Michael was angry. Ryan had left. _Left._ Michael was ready to chew Ryan out when he would come in for his coffee.

10:30 am made Michael seethe for the first time in a long time. The water had been boiled, the beans had been ground up. All he needed was for Ryan to walk through the door any minute now…

Michael waited. _10:40 am._  And waited. _10:50 am._ And waited. _11 am._

The bastard wasn't going to show up, was he? Michael took the cup he had prepared and threw the beans in the trash, no one else ever order a black coffee, he wouldn't need them.  _Just like I don't need Ryan._ Maybe that was a bit much, but Ryan had hurt him badly.

The tv distracted Michael from his thoughts as it had been doing all morning. His fucking boss insisted they had it on. Another scummy gang, the “Fake AH Crew” or something like that, had robbed someone or killed someone _or both._ And then, Michael saw it. He almost dropped the coffee cup in his hands.

He did a double take. That _couldn’t_ be the same jacket. It had to be a coincidence, there was no way Ryan…

The camera zoomed in on the “Vagabond.” _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ The bullet hole in the jacket. The long blond hair pulled back. The startling blue eyes.

_Ryan was a criminal. And Michael was still in love with him anyway. Ryan had broken Michael's heart in a matter of minutes, and Michael still loved him. Ryan was the epitome of everything Michael disliked with the city. He. Still. Loved. Him._

He threw his apron off for the last time and ignored the yelling from his boss as he bolted through the door. Skinny frappuccinos and chai lattes didn't matter, putting on a false facade in front of customers didn't matter, cleaning up spilled coffee and cake crumbs didn't matter.

He had to find the Fake AH Crew. He had to find Ryan.

Criminal or not, Michael had found the love of his life.

And he wanted to know if Ryan had found the love of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I *am* considering a small sequel because I feel like this story needs a happy ending :D~~ The sequel can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13565607). Thank you to everyone who has read this, and for the kudos and comments!


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